


003. eros

by sagexx



Series: darling, the world could be ours [3]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Badboy!Mark, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, High School, Implied Sexual Content, Jackson is a Little Shit, Jealous Park Jinyoung | Jr., Love, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, hint of smexy times, nerdy!jinyoung, only a lil tho, private vs public school, skaterboy!mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 04:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17676692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagexx/pseuds/sagexx
Summary: eros: romantic, passionate love.Jinyoung is an honor student and Mark is the school’s newest bad boy- they shouldn’t fit together, but they just do.





	003. eros

**Author's Note:**

> italics is flashbacks! enjoy babes~

The morning air is chilly. Jinyoung walks with his hands deep inside the pockets of a light jacket, but somehow, he still feels the cold in his chest. He knows it’s not the air’s fault, but rather, how it hangs- dreary and slumped over treetops and buildings, not yet ready to wake from a sweet Sunday night. There’s something so ill-humored about Mondays, Jinyoung can’t help but think, as he turns a corner. The world never rouses in time. 

Neither does he.

He rolled out of bed a good hour back, but his tie still feels too firm around his neck, and his dress shoes click against the sidewalk too loudly, amplified by the lack of life in the streets. One of the perks of attending a private school, he supposes. Not having to share the morning journey with the public school brats next door.

He turns another corner, this time, onto an out-of-the-way path of grey stone. It’s cracked with age, lined with spider leg lamp posts that nestle into the row of lush green pines behind them, and the way they stand is stiff- tired of holding up the heavy morning air. Jinyoung finds comfort in the fact that even the world finds the weekend too short.

~~~

The pathway leads to the back of the school- green pines against sheltered red brick, but this time there’s an addition- a familiar silhouette, leaning against the towering walls, and Jinyoung stops in his tracks. He’s too far to tell who it is, but when the figure waves, all his doubts are swept away.

“Tuan.” Jinyoung strides forward, in the way he didn’t know he could at six in the morning, and stops right in front of him. “You’re not supposed to be here.” 

And he isn’t- because he hasn’t met him here for about a month now. He isn’t supposed to come sweeping back- not so quickly, not so easily, and _definitely_ not so nonchalantly. A lazy smile lifts the corner of the other boy’s lips, amused, and he pushes himself away from the wall to lean forward, just an inch. 

“Morning, Jinyoung,” he drawls, voice quiet but clear as day. Jinyoung feels as if the entire world hushes to hear him. “That was a very warm welcome, thank you.” 

Jinyoung frowns. The familiar sarcasm shatters the frozen, bitter weight inside of him, breaks it into ice shards, and they poke at his chest unpleasantly. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” 

There’s something very suspicious in the way Mark’s jacket is tightly zipped up to his neck, the way his eyes dance with quiet mirth. Like he knows something he doesn’t. Like he’s keeping secrets. 

“I guess you’ll have to see, hmm?” He steps to the side, gesturing to the heavy doors. Jinyoung’s gaze hovers along his sharp jawline, peaking out of the ends of his feathery blonde hair, then to his secretive eyes- and he pulls the door open with a small ‘hmph’. 

The encounter remains a heavy weight in his mind. Heavier, even, than Mark’s absence ever was.

~~~

Jinyoung stands in front of his first period class, tapping his foot impatiently as his classmate takes his sweet time to move onto the next slide of his presentation. The class stifles giggles at his irritation.

“Jackson,” he hisses out of the corner of his mouth. “Hurry the fuck up.”

“Oh, whoops! Sorry, I thought you’d take another eternity explaining this,” Jackson jokes, and the class erupts with laughter. He makes a mental note not to let Jackson anywhere near his class presentations ever again, not unless he wishes for a failing grade. 

“Brat,” he forces himself to chuckle along with everyone, playing off his words as coming from a place of endearment, and then fixes his stare at Jackson, slowly sliding his thumb over his neck. Jackson’s eyes widen and he hurriedly switches the slide, and Jinyoung gives a smug smile. 

“Anyways, without any further interruptions, you all know that magnets are an extremely exciting phenomenon-“ 

The door swings open. 

Jinyoung wants to scream. That is, until he sees who walks in- his eyes travel up long slim legs, to an untucked polo shirt, and when his eyes pass the crooked tie, a deep realization settles in his gut. No, he doesn’t want to scream. He’d rather throw himself out of a window instead. 

His eyes meet Mark Tuan’s. 

“Yes?” The teacher prompts from her seat, her pen hovering above a clipboard. Jinyoung can feel Mark’s heavy gaze on him, and he takes a nervous gulp.

“Magnets, by definition, are a piece of iron, or an ore, alloy, or other material, that has its component atoms so ordered that the material exhibits properties of magnetism, such as attracting other iron-containing objects or aligning itself in an external magnetic field.”

Nobody notices Mark. He’s lounging against the back of the class, a sharp-toothed grin directed right at him- he doesn’t look, but he can feel it- the way it makes his hands shake and his words fall apart, and he knows he did horribly when he finishes the presentation with a round of polite applause. And it’s all so unfair, because it’s all Mark’s fault- he isn’t supposed to be here. Loitering around his school and ruining his life without any consequences- sweeping back after months of no word- ooh, how he’d love to swing his fist into Mark’s handsome face. He gives an angry glare and turns his back on the class, ears red, and stalks up to Jackson. 

“Just give me my USB and don’t say a word,” he commands, holding out his hand. 

“You weren’t that bad, don’t worry,” Jackson comforts despite his wishes, dropping the USB stick into his hand and patting his back. “I think you’ll at least pass, ‘cuz the teacher seems pretty occupied with that kid back there. Like, oh, it’s just Jinyoung, I don’t have to pay attention because I know Jinyoung’s a huge lame ass nerd and he probably sacrificed his first born child for the sake of this presentation, better leave him with an A+ and spare myself-” 

“Alright, class,” a loud voice interrupts before Jinyoung could snap at him. He covers Jackson’s mouth with his hand instead and turns to the front of the class, where the teacher stands beside Mark. Tall Mark, with his hands in the pockets of his pants, his uniform shirt sitting comfortably on top of his shoulders- the same shirt as everyone else, but different- thrown on, not crisp or sharp like the rest of them. He can hear the whispers already. 

“This is Mark. He’s going to be attending our school from now on.” His heart freezes- and then beats faster, because he should’ve known the second he’s seen Mark’s jacket zipped up so tightly. He exhales through his nose. 

“Jinyoung,” the teacher calls. He snaps his hand away from Jackson’s mouth and hides it behind his back quickly. “Mark says he knows you, is that right?” 

Mark looks incredibly amused, and Jinyoung narrows his eyes at the way his lips curve upwards. 

“Yes, miss,” he replies through gritted teeth, as Jackson’s eyes sweep from the new student and back to him, eyes widening with the beginnings of a cheeky smile.

“Then you wouldn’t mind giving him a tour of the school, would you? I have the rest of these presentations to get through.”

Mark tilts his head, questioning, and Jinyoung ignores the way Jackson grabs his arm and tugs imploringly. He considers saying no, but staying means enduring Jackson’s interrogations, and listening to the class whisper and gossip about tall, handsome Mark. 

“Yes, miss.” 

Whispers never quite capture the real thing.

~~~

Jinyoung walks quickly, the sharp sounds of his dress shoes against the tiles traveling through the empty halls. It’s forced, not natural, because there’s something about the way Mark moves behind him that leaves his stomach in flutters.

“Jinyoung,” Mark says, an easy-going grin spreading across his face. He moves his feet faster to keep up, hands still in his pockets. 

“Tuan,” Jinyoung replies bitterly. 

“Why are you in such a hurry?” 

“I’m not,” Jinyoung denies, but stops walking anyways, waiting for Mark’s quiet footsteps to catch up to his. 

“You are.” 

It’s not fair, the familiar lilt of his voice, like he’s purposely making it hard for Jinyoung to hate him. Before he can open his mouth to argue, there’s a hand on his chest, and Mark’s brooding eyes take over his vision-and just like that, his heart pounds and he’s back in the same place he was two months ago, weak-kneed and love-stricken. 

He wonders, despite all this time, if he’s ever actually left this state. He wonders if Mark can hear his heart thrum underneath his hand. Jinyoung doesn’t- _can’t_ resist him, not even when he walks him backward, not even when his back hits the lockers with a quiet _thump_. There’s always been something about Mark that turns his knees to mush. 

“You are. Does it have something to do with the fact that I’m from that public school across the fence?” Mark whispers. It’s not accusing, nor particularly friendly, but the air around them crackles, and he’s all too aware of the way his breath curls around his earlobe. “You didn’t seem to care before.”

He knows which school he’s referring to, the one he’s seen from outside the library window. He’s never visited, too put off by the ugly grey of the roof and the graffiti on the back walls. He thinks about how he hates everybody inside that school- everyone except for one person, maybe. 

“That’s never been a problem,” Jinyoung says, keeping his eyes trained on Mark’s, watching him blink, the way the light catches in his eyelashes. “Not with you, at least.” 

“Then why?” Mark’s voice rasps a little, slowly sliding his hand down his chest. He bites his lip as he moves up again, tantalizingly circling each button on Jinyoung’s shirt with his finger. His chest aches with each touch, ice shards and bitterness melting into a trickling creek of love that he’s sworn to never feel again, the spring after an ice age. 

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he lets out a breath, honest and shaking, because Mark’s hands feel like they belong on him, and it was almost like they were never gone. 

“We’ve met by those pine trees every god damn day, Mark. And then you stopped coming around. You never told me why, never talked to me, and now you show up again like everything’s fine?” 

At this realization dawns on Mark’s face. He blinks slowly, hands freezing in place and mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to find the right words to say. 

“I can explain-“ 

He’s too late. The bell rings and Jinyoung slips out of Mark’s hold, mixing with the crowds of students that stream out of the doors. The bell echoes in his mind- shrill and piercing- but not as piercing as Mark’s heavy gaze.

~~~

Later, Jinyoung blames the quiet hum of the library for distracting him from his studies. He stares hard at his book, like he’s demanding it to give him all its secrets and knowledge, but the words don’t register in his brain no matter how much effort he puts into it. He huffs in frustration and pushes the book away from himself.

Jinyoung never has troubles with his readings. Screw the library- he knows he’s just making excuses, lying to himself through clenched teeth. It’s all Mark’s fault. It’s always been Mark. Jinyoung lays his head down, slipping into memories from a month ago, when he was left with too much heartbreak in his mind to make room for algebra, when he saw his face around every corner. 

It took a week or two for the hurt to fade into anger. He glared at every public school student he passed by, wondering, but not in a good way. Were they one of Mark’s friends? Someone Mark knew? Someone Mark still talks to? How unfair, that they got to see him every day but not Jinyoung, not anymore. And he knew they knew about him- because snickers followed him on the streets and it had to do with Mark, somehow. A prank, maybe, to see if he could catch some preppy private school ass. 

The anger turned into a sort of quiet defeat, eventually. He began to fool himself into thinking hurt meant hate, but if today taught him anything at all, it was that he didn’t hate Mark- he hated what he did to him- what he still does to him. The more his mind dwells on the morning, the more he feels his chest curl in embarrassment. 

He’s such an idiot- all that hurt and all those walls and the second Mark comes back, he’s like a moth to a flame. He knows it’s not the pitiful Monday that drags such weakness from him, it’s the cracks in his heart- maybe he was never supposed to let it freeze over in the first place- but there was something about sitting alone beneath gloomy pine trees on a Monday morning that left him sour. 

Jinyoung raises his head. What a waste of a free period.

~~~

_It was a nice, sunny afternoon, but Jinyoung couldn’t feel the sun rays on his back because he was watching Jackson’s as he ran away, hyena cackle and all._

_“Jackson!” He yelled._

_His bag was sitting in the grass on the other side of the fence._

_“Fuck off, Jackson!”_

_But he was too far away to hear him. And if he did, Jinyoung doubted he’d come back to help. Watching him squirm over the fence from beneath a bush somewhere would give him so much glee, that it’d kill him._

_Fat chance he’d ever let that happen. He turned back to the fence, fuming, racking his brain for a plan B, and to his surprise-_

_“Hi?”_

_A boy. He was handsome, tall, with swooping platinum blonde hair and a long face, something sad and quiet in his eyes, an unlit cigarette in his hand- Jinyoung found himself straightening to mimic the trees beside him, stretching upwards until he could hold the sky with ease._

_“Hi,” Jinyoung coughs, surprised and rather red. The boy was from the other school, that much was clear, with his lanky, improper demeanor and his clothes- god, they were horrendous, baggy shorts and an untucked shirt, skater sneakers. His face all but made up for it._

_“Uh, could you toss me that...” he pointed towards his backpack, his finger shaking the slightest bit. “That…that? Thing?”_

_The public school boy looked down in mock surprise, then pointed to it with a raised eyebrow to confirm. Jinyoung, to avoid his stupid embarrassing stutter, just shook his head yes. With a shockingly boyish grin, the guy leaned down to grab the bag- and just as it materialized within range of Jinyoung’s outstretched fingertips, he jerked it back._

_“I’ll give it to you, for a price.”_

_Jinyoung groaned. “Okay, listen, I got no time for idiots like you, so what do you want-“_

_“A kiss.”_

_Jinyoung blushed at how clear and direct he was. Not like he’d want to kiss him- he wouldn’t, he couldn’t- but the boy had a sparkle of amusement masking the sadness he’d seen before, and he was so taken with it that he accidentally leaned forward- by accident, like magnets. The boy jerked back, stunned. He blinked for a few moments, a pink flush on his cheeks, then grinned-_

_“I was kidding, you didn’t actually have to kiss me. Gay much?”_

_“I don’t care, give me my bag! I just did it for my bag. It has my homework in it you know. That’s why. Whatever, Mystery Boy, do whatever you want with it, I don’t ca-“_

_The boy turned his head, a thoughtful look in his eye._

_“Mystery boy, I like that.”_

_And finally, he passed him the bag. Jinyoung snatched it from his hand, muttering under his breath and glaring at the ground underneath his furrowed brows, and turned without another look. Jackson was surely waiting for him with a shit grin on his face, and he was not looking forward to it._

_~~~_

_Mystery Boy was there again the next day. He leaned heavily across the fence, elbows folded on top the shining metal, watching, waiting. When he saw Jinyoung, he crooked his finger. Hesitating, Jinyoung approached._

_“You again. Here to hold my bag hostage?”_

_“Hey, I did you a favour by returning that. And now,” he grinned, “you owe me one.” He tapped his cheek, pretending to think. “Get me my skateboard? I accidentally tossed it over the fence.”_

_With the shark tooth smile he gave, Jinyoung somehow doubted it was an accident, but he decided to play along. He was in a better mood today, anyways._

_“I’ll give it to you, for a price,” he grinned back._

_“Alright, what do you want?”_

_“A name.”_

_The sunrays sizzled. Mystery boy’s eyes looked like they were soaked in them._

_“Tuan. Mark Tuan. Pleased to meet you…?” He stuck his hand over the fence. Jinyoung shook it, slowly. He preferred ‘Mystery Boy’, but Mark made his stomach flutter twice as hard. They were still shaking hands._

_“Jinyoung.”_

_“Jinyoung.” Mark repeats, and then grins. “I like that too.”_

_~~~_

_“I’m going to get dirt on my shirt,” Jinyoung mumbled._

_The lips at his ear whispered, “Then take it off.”_

_Fast kisses along his jaw, Mark’s leg between his, Jinyoung’s tie in his hand- his cheeks were too warm. It was more than just physical. It was a revival- of sunny autumns and his soul. He grabbed Mark’s face and kissed him hard, lips against lips in a way that would bruise, scrambling for his cold hand to hold like an icepack._

_His hands were just as warm as his was, and they smoothed over Jinyoung’s chest, button, after button, after tantalizing button, until there were no more buttons, only a zipper.  
Jinyoung had never lost his mind so quickly._

_~~~_

_After months and months of making out behind the pine trees, Mark stopped showing up. It was on a Monday._

~~~

Imagine his surprise when he sees Mark sitting beneath the pine trees, after months and months of subconscious pining. School had been out for a whole hour. He’d been waiting for Jinyoung, just like Jinyoung had been waiting for him.

Even then, he can feel his eyes on him, the gentle gaze he allowed himself to fall for a long time ago. It makes him all too aware of the surroundings around them, sunshine shining on pine and red brick and the way the world inhaled- just like every tense Monday morning he’d walked through until that moment.

Finally, Mark looks away, and a heavy weight falls off of his shoulders. A heavy, but pleasant weight- much like the blanket of warmth on his back that belonged to the remnants of summer, or Mark, laying above him, below him, belonging to him. 

“Are you still pretending to be mad at me?” Mark says, almost nonchalantly, his hands in his pockets. Jinyoung knows they’re shaking. He thinks of all the kisses they’ve shared and all the fondness he used to pour into him and his stomach flutters.

“I’m not pretending,” Jinyoung closes his eyes with a sigh. “I am mad.” He’s lying. He’s not mad anymore, his mind is a mess of confusion and hurt, a mess of scabs that have been re-opened. 

“I didn’t get a chance to explain.” Mark sounds defeated. Concerned.

A pause. Jinyoung walks closer. Sits down. 

“Go on then.”

“I got kicked out.” Deep breath. “Apparently word got out to my dad that I’ve been messing around with boys, and…and…yeah.” 

Mark had never been amazing with his words. He was better with his body. Jinyoung thinks about how he knows him, inside and out, sunny afternoon spent getting to know each other underneath the pine trees. It wasn’t always heavy kisses, there were heavy words and light banter- Mark had always been simple and sarcastic while Jinyoung was complex and neurotic. Their souls fit just like their bodies, everything about them together shone like summer. Why would Mark leave him? He lets himself think that maybe, just maybe, his eyes exist to see only Jinyoung.

To lighten the mood, Jinyoung’s face sours. “Boys? Plural?”

Mark laughs. His tie, loose and crooked, his shirt, partly untucked- suddenly, it doesn’t matter. Jinyoung knows basic uniform care enough for the both of them. 

There’s something so wonderful about Mondays, Jinyoung can’t help but think, as he sinks into Mark’s arms. The world always rouses by afternoon. 

Mark has always been his very own sweet Sunday night.

**Author's Note:**

> finally back from my unofficial hiatus! i know, i suck, but luckily for all of you my new year's resolution was to be more productive, and guess what's a perfect way to start pumping out writing? this series~ so watch out, once i stop procrastinating it's over for y'all


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